Looking for trie - Charles H Spurgeon

I was told of a poor peasant on the Welsh mountains who, month after month, year after year, through a long period of declining life, was used every morning, as soon as he awoke, to open his casement window, towards the cast, and look out to see if Jesus Christ was coming. He was no calculator, or he need not have looked so long ; he was no student of prophecy, or he need not have looked at all; he was ready, or he would not have been in so much haste ; he was willing, or he would rather have looked another way; he loved, or it would not have been the first thought of the morning. His Master did not come, but a messenger did, to fetch the ready one home. The same preparation sufficed for both, the longing soul was satisfied with either. Often when, in the morning, the child of God awakes, weary and encumbered with the flesh, perhaps from troubled dreams, perhaps with troubled thoughts, his Father’s secret comes presently across him, he looks up, if not out, to feel, if not to see, the glories of that last morning when the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall arise indestructible ; no weary limbs to bear the spirit down ; no feverish dreams to haunt the vision ; no dark forecasting of the day’s events, or returning memory of the griefs of yesterday.